What Happens Tonight
by Foofmeister
Summary: Alfred drags Arthur to a scary movie. Now Alfred can't sleep, and Arthur just doesn't want to admit he's afraid. What will the night have in store for them? Oneshot! USUKhuman.


**Title: **What Happens Tonight

**Genre**: Supernatural/Humor/Romance

**Warnings**: Piss-poor depictions of frightening situations, signs of schizophrenia, and major fluffiness. Oh, and rated T for Arthur's foul mouth -_-

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Hetalia: Axis Powers, or else I would _own them all…_

Well, lets just get it on, shall we? We can chat at the end.

* * *

><p><em>Never again.<em>

Never again was he going to allow Alfred F. Jones to drag him to another one of these horror movies. They were unsophisticated, unrealistic, and—damn him for admitting it—_terrifying_. He had lost his wits sometime during that appalling film and was now reduced to shivering mass of wired nerves. He was scared. For the first time in his life, Arthur Kirkland was genuinely _scared_.

Of course, he'd _never_ admit to that; not to himself and especially not to Alfred. The stupid pillock would never leave him alone if he knew.

As they stepped out of the dark theatre—which seemed _way too dark_ now, in Arthur's opinion— with the rest of the crowd, he struggled to convince himself that he was not frightened. He wasn't afraid of a bunch of half-baked, fictional lies meant to scare a bunch of thrill-seeking teenagers…he _wasn't!_

He _had_ to maintain composure. Composure and indifference; they were basically the two things that made up Arthur. He was always collected, unfazed by mostly everything in life. Like hell he was going to allow some scary movie unravel him and turn him into a chattering, senseless idiot, much like how Alfred was acting right now.

"Holy! I-I can't believe! That was…holy _shit!_"

Alfred was so riled, he couldn't even spit out a complete sentence as they shuffled out of the building. The October air was frigid, nipping at their warm bodies. All around them, people were buzzing with the same energy and nervousness as Alfred, reciting lines and recounting the scariest scenes from the movie. Laughter and nervous chatter penetrated the tranquil evening. The movie was a bit hit, to say the least.

Admittedly, it was a hell of a lot scarier than Arthur had bargained for. He normally didn't watch that sort of genre, but for some reason he couldn't refuse when Alfred asked—begged—him to come. How annoying. He was too busy seething, it took him a moment to realize Alfred was actually talking to him; or rather, rambling on and on in a frenzied state…

"Arthur! Can you _believe_ what we just watched? That was _hella_ scary! Especially when that _thing_ came crawling up the stairs, and—"

"Y-yes, I'm quite aware of what happened," Arthur replied."I _happened_ to be sitting right next to you, watching the same thing."

A violent shiver ran down his spine as he remembered specific parts of the movie that had scared him the most. _Shut up, Shut up, _he wanted to tell Alfred, but he forced the words off his tongue. He would have sounded distressed. Although Arthur was a lot of things, _distressed _was not one of them…at least until now it wasn't.

"How can you be so _calm_?" Alfred quipped, shoving his hands in his jean pockets. They both took off down the street, away from the crowded theatre and towards the college up the road.

"It wasn't _that_ bad," Arthur commented offhandedly. He was busy buttoning up his jacket, if only to give his shaking hands something to do; they couldn't seem to stay _still._ "I actually found it rather boring."

He was lying through his teeth of course. _Boring _was hardly the word he would chose to describe what he had just witnessed. Intense? Certainly. Terrifying? Absolutely. Nightmare-inducing? He probably wasn't going to sleep for a week…

It was a terrible mistake, watching that movie. But it did have its perks, such as Alfred frequently grabbing onto his arm and cowering into his shoulder during terrifying scenes. Once or twice he almost jumped in his lap even. Arthur of course wanted to do the exact same, but he forced himself to act displeased as fought back a blush—his arm was _still_ tingling where Alfred had latched on…

Bloody hell, it was hard to keep _calm_ with Alfred clinging onto him, in a theatre full of screaming people…

"_Boring_? Are you joking? That was the scariest shit I've ever seen! I'm never going to sleep again!" Alfred exploded.

"Then why on Earth did you go watch it?" Arthur grumbled, entirely confused.

He shrugged, blowing out a puff of breath. The cold air turned his breath into white steam and it curled away from them, like a ghost.

"I don't know. It's kind of fun and exciting, being scared like that…"

Arthur made a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat. He didn't think there was anything"fun and exciting" about having the living daylights scared out of him. Being terrified was not very amusing. Why anyone would _want_ to exploit these fears and entertain them was beyond him.

"That's very masochistic of you," he replied curtly.

Alfred laughed and shrugged again. "Eh—I don't even know what that means."

"Big surprise there."

"Come on Arthur," Alfred started again. "You can't tell me you're not the least bit afraid after watching that!"

_Too true. But I'd never tell you that. _Sure, he walked out of there utterly spooked, but Arthur was much better at composure than anything else. Trying to get him to admit he was scared was like trying to get water to stop being so wet.

"I'm afraid you're wrong on that. It seems you'll have to drag someone else to these awful horror movies of yours," Arthur replied nonchalantly. _Because there is no bloody way in hell I'm going to watch another one…_

Alfred only hummed in a vague response, dropping the subject as they continued their walk back. The campus was only ten minuets away from the theatre, which was good for the college students who needed something to do on the weekends. As they walked, Arthur noticed Alfred giving him several side-long glances, as if searching him for something. He could feel his face heating up, wondering if Alfred had noticed his shivering even underneath his heavy jacket. If he did, he didn't mention it.

Nervously, Arthur adjusted his scarf to hide his face a little more, just in case.

Fortunately for him, they arrived back on campus in no time. They both stopped underneath a lonesome lamppost, which casted a protective circle of light on them.

Alfred lived in the dorms on the north side of the campus. He had three rowdy roommates who shared his love of video games, junk food, and obnoxiousness. In fact, Arthur wondered briefly why Alfred didn't ask _them _to go watch the movie instead. They probably would have been better company; they could gather in their dorm room with loads of junk food and recount the horror movie with big smiles and shared nervousness. They would have _fun_, like Alfred mentioned earlier.

The thought made an odd, sinking feeling in Arthur's stomach. He brushed it away, attributing it to the mixture of bad popcorn, too much fizzy soda, and severe anxiety.

"Well, I guess I'm heading this way then." Alfred gestured over his shoulder with his thumb the direction of his dorms.

"Yes, I know where your dorms are," said Arthur, rolling his eyes.

Alfred glanced towards his dorms and turned back to Arthur, with a sheepish grin. "I'm just scared to walk all alone, especially this late a night…" he took a cautious look around, scanning the grounds suspiciously as if expecting something to jump out of the bushes.

"Well too bad. I'm going the other way." Arthur replied. He nodded his head in the opposite direction, towards the southern part of the campus where the student apartments where located. Unlike Alfred, he lived alone. Before, he had two other roommates, but one dropped out of school and the other just got married and moved in with his wife.

That left just Arthur, which was fine with him—he had a lot of time to himself, and tons of personal space. There wasn't really anyone to talk to and he always ate alone, but at least he _always_ got his homework done well before the due date. Of course, there were times that Alfred would barge in unannounced, which was never – always—a relief.

"Well, I guess I'll see you later then, Britain!" Alfred quipped.

Arthur immediately bristled. "That's not my name!" he raged, face flushing once again.

Alfred merely laughed in response—that annoying, insufferable, simply wonderful laugh. "Whatever, I think it suits you! Anyway, goodnight!" he turned, tossed a casual wave over his shoulder, and just like that, he was gone.

Arthur was left standing underneath the orange glow of the lamppost, alone and irate. _Britain. Completely idiotic. Simply because I _come_ from Great Britain…_

Rolling his eyes, he let go of his agitation. Besides, if he was genuinely honest with himself—and he usually tried to deny it—he kind of _liked _that idiot's nickname for him.

_Britain…._

The wind suddenly picked up, rustling the trees threateningly. Arthur felt his heart beat skip, remembering he was out here in the dark all by himself. Already, with Alfred gone, his imagination was running rampant; he could feel eyes following him, and cold fingers trailing down his spine.

Leaving the sanctuary of the lamppost, he hurried across campus towards his apartment, trying desperately to shake off the feeling of someone following him…

* * *

><p>He made it back to his apartment in one piece, disregarding the fact he had nearly five heart attacks on the way. He fumbled with his keys, wishing he had eyes in the back of his skull to keep guard; any second now, he was going to be dragged away into the darkness by some dastardly ghost…<p>

Finally, he managed to open the door and launched himself inside, slamming it shut and locking it behind him. He felt somewhat better about being indoors now, but not by much…

He blinked; one…two… _three _times. His apartment was…not the same.

Before, it was just a normal place to live; somewhere he slept every night, drank his tea, and did his homework. But now it was unfamiliar and wrong. It was too large and empty, with lonely walls and silent hallways. Flashbacks of the movie flooded his mind: things creeping behind his back and shadows shifting in the corners. He attacked the light switch in a panic.

_You're being completely idiotic, _he chided himself as the shabby apartment was lit up with a warm glow. There was no reason to be afraid. The movie was so ridiculously fake—a twisted means of entertainment. It should not hold this sort of influence over him… honestly, scared of his own apartment now? How absurd and immature.

Arthur scanned his living room. He was tense, just _waiting_ for something to jump out, but desperately hoping _against_ it. Satisfied there was nothing lurking in his apartment—he didn't do a really thorough inspection, for fear of _actually_ finding something—he set about making himself a cup of tea. That would settle him down; it always did.

Damn, he was _so _British: _scared out of your mind? Have a cup of tea!_

He put the kettle on the stove and pulled out a bar stool to sit and wait. After a moment, Arthur realized he was still wearing his peacoat and scarf. Strangely, he didn't feel safe taking them off; they felt like some sort of pathetic shield, wrapping heat and comfort around his shivering body.

He was arguing with himself to take them off when he heard a distinctive creak behind him, like someone shifting their weight on the hardwood floor. He whipped around in the direction it came from, just barely stifling a squeak.

It had come from the hallway, which loomed dark and uninviting in his view; he hadn't turned those lights on yet. It seemed to stretch unusually far, for he couldn't see the end where the bathroom was located.

A cold sweat broke over his body, chills racing up and down his arms and legs. With shaky knees, he got up and moved towards the hallway. He hesitated before he reached his arm into the darkness for the light switch. While he felt around for it, he unwillingly thought of cold, dead hands grabbing onto his wrist. Shaking violently, he wondered how he would react if he turned on the light and actually _found _something standing in his hallway, right in front of him.

The thought made him sick to his stomach.

His fingers closed on the switch and he flicked it on, illuminating the hallway. Tremendous relief washed though him. There was nothing there.

_You stupid git, it's just the building making noise._

Yes, it was just the ruddy building. It was fairly old after all, and it's not that unusual for old buildings to groan and creak over the years. In fact, he _knew _he had heard similar noises before. Except before, they weren't as freaky and terrifying as they were now…

Arthur sighed heavily, running a hand through his messy blonde hair. He had to stop this. It wasn't healthy and it wasn't very becoming. Even _if_ there was no one around to see, it wasn't like him to be so… unhinged. He always maintained a certain level-headedness that everyone else seemed to lack. And he wasn't about to give that up because some bloody movie.

Feeling more confident, he made his way back to his abandoned seat, again waiting for his tea. _That's a good chap_, he congratulated himself. _Just get a nice cup of tea and then be off to bed. _

He even convinced himself to take his coat and scarf off—the shoes could wait a little longer. Throwing them over the back of his chair, he looked around the apartment for something to do while he waited for the water for his tea to boil. He could hear the wind howling outside, moaning though his apartment. There were a few other clicks and creaks emitted by the old building; while he wasn't terrified per say, but it _did_ put him on edge. He thought about tuning the telly on, if only to have some background noise to distract him.

He got up and headed towards the television when something caught his eye: across the room, the closet door stood ajar. He paused, staring at the white door. He could have sworn it was closed before. After all, _he _was the only one to use it, and he had this thing about closing doors all the way….

Cold terror pumped through his blood as he stared at the offending door. Despite his constant mantra to _keep calm and carry on_, he could feel his composure slipping. He _always _closed doors_—always! _There was no reason why that closet door should be creaked opened! In fact, he _swore _it was shut when he had first entered his apartment and scanned everything.

_Oh hell no, not the closet…not the closet… _

The door stood inched open, deceivingly innocent. Yet Arthur could feel pulses of malevolence radiating from that closet. His heart was pounding in his chest as he imagined someone right behind the door, watching him…

_You're being stupid again_, his rational side scolded. _There's nothing in there. Go over there and see for yourself._

_Shit, I don't want to, _he argued with himself. But he already knew he was going to have to; the only way he was going to get over this immature anxiety was to straighten up and face his fears. He would never rest until he closed that door and proved there was nothing in there! And on second thought, he was _Arthur Kirkland;_ things like this didn't scare him! They… _annoyed_ him!

Trying to stifle his rapid heart beat, Arthur stepped towards the sinister closet door. When he reached it, he grabbed the cold, metal handle with shaking hands. He paused, gathering any courage he had left, which was not a lot at the moment.

_Just open the damn door._

Steeling himself, he wrenched it open. The coats swayed on their hangers from the force, giving the eerie impression that someone—something—had just brushed passed them.

Heart hammering away in his chest, Arthur stood there inspecting the inside of his closet. Once again, there was nothing paranormal in there; just his jackets, a pair of snow boots, his umbrella, and an extra blanket. He slammed the door shut, unable to stand the sight of his closet anymore—not after _that _movie.

He retreated back to the kitchen, which felt safe(r) compared to the rest of his cold, empty apartment. He was still shivering and suddenly wanted to put his coat back on. Sliding back onto his bar stool, he held his head in his hands, breath uneven.

_I'm not scared…I'm not scared… I'm…scared. Bloody hell, I'm scared. _

He closed his eyes, and tried to calm down. His whole body was trembling and shaking and all he could think was: _I don't want to be alone. _

He had to do something. He couldn't go on like this: getting wound up and frightened over every little thing. If he _hadn't _seen that rubbish movie, he would be happily asleep right now, without a care in the world. Instead, he had been diminished to a paranoid headcase. At this rate, he was going to die of a heart attack before the night was over. He didn't want to be alone, not tonight. But who could he call? He didn't have many friends, and it was already late.

There was Francis, though he was more of an adversary than a friend. They had an odd relationship that involved hating each other, but also looking out for one another; the latter only under _strictly necessary _conditions, such as when one or the other is totally wasted and needs a safe trip home. Other than that, the two of them love to hate each other. No, he couldn't possibly call Francis; that bastard would see right through Arthur and make fun of him for being a pansy. Besides, Francis was probably with that Matthew kid; they were inseparable.

The only other person Arthur could think of was Alfred, which was absurd of course; not only did they _just _see each other, but Alfred was probably having a brilliant, cheerful time with his roommates. Arthur could just picture them all laughing obtusely about stuff on the internet and crowding around that dumb video gaming system. In the company of funny, energetic friends and comfort, the scary movie was probably the _farthest_ thing from Alfred's mind right now…

There was another odd twinge in his stomach and this time he couldn't find anything to blame it on.

_I don't want to be alone..._

A piercing shriek shattered the silence. Arthur jolted out of his seat, as if electrocuted.

His teapot was wailing for attention, steam blowing out angrily.

It took him a fair amount of time to be able to breathe again. His body had completely frozen from terror and he was sure that even his blood had stopped cold in his veins. His heart had lodged itself all the way up to his throat, and his whole body felt tingly and numb at the same time from the shock.

After a long while, he regained basic motor movement. He stumbled awkwardly towards the stove, still recovering from being petrified, and turned the burner off. He shakily placed the kettle off to the side, suddenly not desiring any tea; he had completely lost his stomach.

Inside his head, he was cursing up a storm:

_Bloody-fucking-kettle! Piece of shit! Scaring the hell out of me! Giving me a fucking heart attack! _

He was so rattled, he could hardly think straight. Now his damn cup of tea—the only sad excuse for comfort he had—was ruined because he was so bloody scared. He stood there in his kitchen, body tense and seized in alert. He didn't know what to _do _any more than just stand there. That rational part of him was _still_ trying to maintain control, but the battle was not so easily won.

_Just take your shoes off, take an Ambien, and go crawl into bed. Tomorrow morning, this will all be over… _

Stiffly, he moved to the couch and plopped down, beginning to untie his shoes. For some reason, the motion felt odd and foreign to him. He supposed it was because he had officially lost his wits and was completely mental now. He had taken one shoe off when he heard it: a loud, deafening _SNAP_ resonated right outside his window. Jerking his head up, Arthur's whole body froze once again; a shadow whipped out of view, lightning fast.

He was _not _imagining that.

To hell with everything else, he did _not _imagine _that_! Arthur jumped to his feet and raced to the window, blood pounding in his ears. His sweaty hands gripped the window sill tightly as he glanced out into the darkness. His eyes darted around furiously, searching for anything. Was it an animal? Stupid, there was nothing that big around here. A person? Maybe, but the thought wasn't very comforting. A…ghost? Bloody hell, there was no such thing!

But whatever it was, he could not decide because there was nothing to see. There was nothing out there but an empty college campus. Not too far away, he could see the apartment parking lot, dimly lit by a few feeble lampposts. Beyond that was Hakem Hall, where went for his chemistry class. The only movement outside was the sway of trees and bushes lining the sidewalk. There was nothing else to look at and no hint that there had been anything outside at all. He drew back, fumbling to close the curtains before something could pop up right in front of his face—like in the movie.

There had been _something _though! He _saw_ it! And no matter how tired or spooked he was, he did _not imagine it! _

In a flash decision, Arthur frantically searched for a flashlight and stormed out of his apartment. He stepped out into the cold night, fully aware of how stupid he was being. He was terrified beyond belief, but he _had _to know! Curiosity was poisoning him. Briefly, he remembered a character in the movie doing something terribly familiar; she ended up dying by the hands of a vengeful spirit. But there were no such things as ghosts; there just _wasn't! _

He stood on his door step, shivering—he forgot his coat—from both the cold and the captivating fear running through his nerves. He held out his flashlight like a fool.

"H-hello?" he called out timidly. Emerald eyes swept the darkness, anxiously waiting. But like all classic scary movies, nothing revealed itself. The wind picked up, moaning like a restless spirit through the trees; the gangly branches casted snake-like shadows that twisted on the ground. Dried autumn leaves scuttled along the sidewalk, catching on the shoe that he had yet to take off. His heart was chiseling away behind his ribcage—so hard, he was sure it was either going to rip through his chest or give out completely.

_Go back inside. Go back inside and lock the door. _Even the no-nonsense, rational side of him was now in a panic;_ Lock the door. Lock the windows. Lock everything! _

But Arthur didn't _want_ to go back inside. It was just as freaky in there as it was out here. He was scared and his apartment was terrifying! He didn't _want _to be alone. Not tonight—not ever again!

He took a single step foreword when something shot out of the bush beside him and grabbed onto his ankle.

All sense of calm and reasonableness flew out the window as Arthur released a petrified shriek. He would try to deny it later, but right now he didn't care. All he could think about was the ghostly pale hand—and it _was_ distinctively a hand—_holding_ _on to his ankle!_

Reflexively, he leapt back but got tangled up and toppled into the adjacent bush. Over the haze of his complete panic, he registered a deep, hearty laugh—not the creepy, bone-tingling kind, but the lively, authentic type of laughter. And it was irritatingly familiar…

Arthur scrambled out of the bush and came face to face with Alfred, who was grinning like an idiot and _laughing at him!_

Oh, how _hilarious_ this must look; twigs and leaves stuck in his hair and clothes all disheveled from his less-than-dignified tumble. Arthur could feel his face burning scarlet as Alfred continued to chortle at his expense.

"What the _hell _Alfred?" he all but shouted. "That wasn't funny!"

Alfred had doubled over from laughing so heavily. "Sure it was!" he argued, wiping his eyes. "You reacted just how I imagined! Even better actually! I didn't know you could scream like that…"

"Oh shut up, you fat pillock!" Arthur snapped. He pushed himself the rest of the way out of the bush as regally as possible. The effort was completely lost, as he still had twigs tangled in his hair.

"Hey, hey! No need for name-calling! Just because you were scared—"

"I wasn't scared." Arthur protested vainly. "And you're lucky I didn't bring a bat to beat you with! I still might, you insufferable cow!"

"Oh, just admit it, Arthur! That's all I want—a confession!" Alfred threw him a cocky grin, teeth dazzlingly bright. _Tch—as if that would work…_

"Scared?" Arthur scoffed. "I don't know the meaning."

It was almost comical how easily Alfred's demeanor shifted from arrogant confidence to near pleading. "Come on! I know you were scared after that movie. Hell, _no one_ could walk out of there and not be messed up!"

"So you thought it would be funny to sneak up on me and pull a rubbish prank like that?" Arthur said coolly. "You are so childish."

Alfred scratched the back of his neck and shifted his gaze. "Well, actually I was pretty scared myself and was gonna come over," he said sheepishly.

Arthur eyed him suspiciously. "What for? We _just_ saw each other. And you have plenty of roommates who would tolerate your immature fear of ghosts." He started to pick the twigs still stuck in his messy hair.

"Yeah, but you don't."

Arthur paused. "…What?"

"I didn't want you to be alone, especially after watching that fucking scary movie!" Alfred wrapped his arms around his torso. "I'm shivering just _thinking _about it again!"

Arthur blinked, having a hard time following. "You… wanted to keep _me _company?" he asked slowly.

"Of course," Alfred replied easily. "I could tell you were freaked out by that movie—"

"Was not."

"—and it didn't feel right, letting you go home to your empty apartment. So I thought I could spend the night? We can watch each other's backs for ghosts and stuff…" Alfred offered him an earnest smile, innocent and genuine.

"After the stunt _you _just pulled, I think not." Arthur folded his arms and determinedly looked away from the tall blonde.

"Did I really scare you that much?" he asked in a small voice. He sounded troubled. Before Arthur could object that he _wasn't scared_, Alfred continued again. "I'm so sorry Arthur. I was only trying to have a little fun. I didn't mean to upset you."

He sounded so sincere, so open. His radiant eyes were practically begging for forgiveness. Arthur found his resolve dissolving under the command of those blue eyes. Arms still folded, he lifting his chin in contemplation. Alfred rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet, waiting for Arthur's response. The expression on his face was so hopelessly eager…

He sighed heavily, making a show of being annoyed. "If you try any of that funny business again tonight, I'm kicking you out." Arthur warned. "I don't care _how _scared of ghosts you are, you'll be walking across campus _alone_!"

The brilliant smile that he was graced with was more than worth it. "Deal!"

* * *

><p>An hour later found Arthur lying awake in bed, staring at the ceiling and trying his best to avoid looking at the dark corners of his room. Despite having company in his creepy apartment, Arthur could <em>still<em> feel the chill of fear, deep in his bones.

_Would this ever stop…?_

He could hear Alfred in the living room, tossing about on the couch. He sounded restless, so Arthur took that to mean that he couldn't sleep either. Arthur shifted, pulling the covers around him more tightly. He closed his eyes and took a deep even breath, coercing his body to just relax and _sleep_. It was all okay now—he wasn't alone because Alfred was only fifteen steps away, in the next room. Everything was fine. He didn't need to be afraid anymore…

Yet he was. He could still feel ghostly fingers tracing down his arms and legs, and cold eyes surveying him. He was unable to shake the grotesque and horrible scenes from the movie that were imprinted in his mind. Helplessly, they flooded his senses; all he could think was doors creaking open mysteriously, and slamming shut. Furniture being moved by phantoms, and something crawling under his duvet, closer and closer, ready to grab him—

His bed suddenly sunk, an unexpected weight sitting down beside him.

He yelled in alarm, jolting upright.

"Arthur! Calm down!"

Strong, warm hands were suddenly holding him. He was pulled into an embrace as he shook with terror.

"D-dammit Alfred!" he cried hysterically. "I _told _you that if you—"

"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to scare you again! I swear!"

Once again, Alfred spewed only sincerity. Arthur choked off his rant and focused instead to steady his heart rate. "Then what are you doing?" he snipped, studying Alfred's face.

"I can't sleep. I'm way too scared."

Arthur huffed. "You shouldn't have watched that movie then."

"Yeah, I know. That was the scariest thing I've ever seen…"

There was silence between them, tangible and strange. They both just sat there on Arthur's bed, quiet. Arthur racked his brain for something, but he honestly couldn't think of anything to say.

"…"

More silence.

"…"

Apparently Alfred couldn't think of anything either. Arthur was just about to pull a "do you want some tea" card, when Alfred finally spoke up, breaking the quiet air.

"I guess… I'll get back to the couch then…try to sleep again..." He mumbled, scratching his neck again nervously. He moved to get up, but Arthur suddenly grabbed his arm. Without a word, he tugged Alfred into his bed, under the warm covers. They cuddled together effortlessly, limbs wrapping securely around each other for comfort. Just like that, they _both _felt loads safer.

"If you wanted to come sleep with me, all you had to do was ask, love." Arthur chided affectionately. He felt Alfred's chuckle reverberate through. He ran his hand through Arthur's golden hair, lightly pulling at a piece by his ear.

"You know Arthur, if you were really scared, you only had to say so."

Arthur wanted to protest for his dignity's sake, but what was the point? Really?

"Alfred?"

He hummed in response.

"I….I'm frightened."

Alfred didn't say anything, but rather squeezed him tighter. "That's why I'm here."

* * *

><p><strong>~FIN<strong>

Whoo! Finally finished! I was hoping to upload this in time for Halloween and LOOKIE AT THAT: I _DID_! (I'm terrible at deadlines—I always miss them.) But never mind that, I finished it just in time for the spooky season! Yay! On a side note, WHAT DO YOU THINK? HOW DID YOU LIKE IT? Was it extremely lame? I'll never know unless you tell me~ (cue in "review" button)

That's all I really have to say…Hope everybody has a **HAppY HaLLoWeEN!**

In case you're interested, here's a page worth of unorganized notes; they are completely random and I just jotted them down as I wrote the story. They contain things both said and unsaid throughout the story.

Speaking of, this was SUPPOSED to be a short-story, but it turned out to be like 14 pages in Word. They always end up so LOOONNG (by _my_ standards, that is…) here you go:

**_Various Inconsequential Notes:_**

Arthur and Alfred watched **Paranormal Activity 3**. Why? Because I watched it and I was messed up for a _week_. (I'm still getting over it) This fanfic spawned from my fears. For those who haven't seen the movie, you might want to keep it that way. For those who _did_: was that scene involving the white bed sheet not the SCARIEST SHIT?

**_Ambien_**: sleeping pill. If you didn't know that, don't feel bad; **_I _**actuallyhad to go look it up (I'm not well versed on slepping drugs.) I considered using _Lunesta_, but it sounded way too girly… and the commercials were kinda dumb.

**As for Tea…**sorry, but I'm not British and I've never made tea before. So if I completely massacred the process of tea-making, it's because I looked it up online and took the word of some random person. again, sorry-sorry! I made it vague on purpose; if you notice, Arthur never _actually_ got around to making his tea…hmmm…

By the way, the **closet door?** Arthur accidently left it open, despite his pet peeve. He was just so **nervous/excited** about going to the movies with Alfred, he grabbed his peacoat and raced out the door before making sure it was closed all the way. How cute!

Not that anyone cares, but Arthur is taking chemistry because it's the only branch of science that he (correction: **_I_**) actually likes.

**Matthew** was vaguely mentioned—I didn't really want to delve too deep into that (since this was USUK oriented). In my story, he is _not_ Alfred's brother because I think it would be weird for the two of them to be going to college together. Sorry if that somehow ruined you -.-

I didn't mention Alfred's roommates, though in hindsight I think I should/could have. I was already rushing to get this finished before Halloween, so I didn't want to go into detail issues I deemed insignificant. However, if you were interested, I pictured Alfred having the following roommates:

-**Lavino**: because I _love_ Romano, (_he's ma fav~!_) and I think his surly attitude would clash fantastically with Alfred's easy-going personality. Just think, every group needs an angry pessimist.

-**Yao**: China cracks me up. And if he cracks me up, you can bet he cracks Alfred up. Plus, he does all the cooking, so that's a major win-win for Alfred!

**-**-**Antonio: **Because… I don't know why—just 'cause!

Obviously, if you didn't notice, Arthur starts name-calling when he's distressed. I wish I shared the same trait, but I get tongue-tied when I'm frustrated and can't speak shit.

I can't believe I blew off all my homework for a week to write this. And, I can't believe it _took _me an entire week to write this, which isn't even that awesome. I'm terrible.

**"And on that bombshell, it's time to end!" **

**Happy Halloween guys!**

P.S. If you feel generous, drop a review please! You know you want to~


End file.
